


The Making of a Dark God

by Blue_Kat



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Much death, Such Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:46:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Kat/pseuds/Blue_Kat
Summary: The Mad King has been captured. He will make an excellent sacrifice to release what is to come...





	The Making of a Dark God

They slit his throat first.  
Even as he struggles, they wrench his head back to let the blood flow.  
And after the initial spray they catch it in a bowl.  
Murmuring incantations all the while.  
He should be dead already. Should be unconscious from the sudden blood pressure drop. Yet still he was struggling against his restraints, against the hand in his hair. Even as the only noise he could make was a gurgle.  
Was he dead already?  
The blade they had used to slit his throat was so sharp he hadn't even registered pain. Only shock as scarlet sprayed the face of the cultist stood in front of him.  
Their chants intensified and the bowl of his blood turned black.  
Ryan stilled, suddenly terrified.  
They weren't just mad. This was _real_. Whatever they were doing, something was happening. Something was coming.  
And their words when they caught him suddenly sprang to mind. "You will make a perfect vessel for our god."  
His bonds were cut and he fell forward to his knees, head smashing in to the stone floor. It was at this point Ryan realised he was no longer breathing. That despite his fear his heart was still, not hammering against his sternum.  
He was dead.  
But somehow... somehow still here.  
Terror filled him and the cultists grabbed him again.  
"Mad king, meet your end."  
They thrust a sword through his gut, yet all he did was grunt. There was no pain. Just the thud of impact. The sound of metal through flesh.  
The sword gleamed silver and then began to tarnish. He could see his own blood making its way up the blade, once it reached the jeweled hilt the sword fed greedily on it, the red gems producing a sickly glow.  
He watched fascinated, eyes wide. The cultists arranged him in to a kneeling position now he no longer struggled, pulled his wrists together and bound them as if he were in prayer. Or as if he were begging for his now non existent life...  
The first skewer pressed against his wrist and at its touch Ryan screamed  
It burned. All the pain that had been absent suddenly hitting in a rush of fire. Arcing out from the point of contact the metal had with his skin. It hadn't even broken it...  
He continued to scream, congealed blood finding its way out of his mouth, his airway suddenly clear allowing the sound to bounce around the stone walls, to echo and call something forth.  
"Finish it now! Hurry!"  
They forced several skewers through his arms, pierced his heart with them. The pain was blinding and he could not move, his whole body too focused on the pain to try and find its feet, to try and run.  
The earth shook.  
The cultists fled.  
And Ryan was left alone as his blood took form, stepping out of the bowl and towards him. The mass stood tall, shaped itself in to a humanoid form. And Ryan suddenly became aware it was _looking at him._  
No eyes, but Ryan could feel it's gaze boring in to him.  
Could feel the screams die in his throat as it advanced.  
As all that mattered was its dark form grabbing his chin and tipping his head back.  
As the form changed. A grin suddenly appearing on its face. Features molding themselves from black blood. _His features._  
He struggled in the creatures grip then. Tried to wiggle backwards, away from this, this... thing.  
His booming laughter echoed around the room, the creatures other hand cupping the back of Ryan's head and pulling him in to an invasive kiss.  
The taste of copper flooded his mouth. Poured down his throat and up his nose. He couldn't get away, the creatures hold on him too tight.  
He felt the skewers melting, ropes burning to ash and the sword being dragged from his torso.  
Heat pooled in his stomach and his mind became cloudy as the creatures grip loosened and then released. Ryan opened his eyes, to see nothing before him. The thing was gone...  
And Ryan was free.  
He stood, turning to the cultists slowly crawling back in to the room.  
"Oh great and powerful Lord, we have freed you from your fetters, our loyalty has rewarded us with your presence."  
What the fuck were they talking about. They had murdered him. They had sought to destroy him in the hopes of meeting their own desires.  
He didn't even have to think about it. Using shadow to grab the one who spoke and tearing them apart.  
_Well that was new_  
Time to have some fun.  
His laughter filled the room again as he tore through the cultists. Eviscerating. Slicing. Destroying. He drank in their screams.  
The Mad King was dead.  
Long live the Dark God.

**Author's Note:**

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